


The Joker's Dentist

by SlapDashDrivel



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Done with this shit, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Gothamite, He's just a guy trying to live in Gotham, OC, OC but not for pairing, inspired by dentists and The Joker's new ugly grill, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 11:14:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6421714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlapDashDrivel/pseuds/SlapDashDrivel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who is the unfortunate soul tasked with fixing the Joker's perfect trademark grin whenever Batman punches out a few of those pearly whites? This an introduction to the man behind the surgical mask... Future chapters to feature Harley, and the appearance (and swift rectification) of the dreaded grill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note:  
> I just got so worked up over JxHQ and the atrocity of the Joker's grill that I had to vomit out some words. Inspired by [ https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8607778/1/Worth-a-Thousand-Words ]() , [ https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6012712/1/May-I-Take-Your-Order](), [https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9347106/1/Panda-King](), and [http://kidnotorious.deviantart.com/art/sketchy-Joker-and-Harley-79589990]() Seriously a huge fic / artist rec for JxHQ stuff, especially since ao3 doesn't seem to have much :x  
> Anyway I just love me some classic Joker, his trademark smile, and the logistics of his zany life. I super love the crazy clown duo dealing with normal Gothamites.

Marcus Udeshi had a job that many would consider him insane for having. Sure, the pay was great, phenomenal even, he was able to pay for his parents to live in a comfortable house in the suburbs (because he would be damned if they lived within a 50 mile radius of the hellhole that he called home), helped send his sister to school, and lived very well himself. He lived in a part of Gotham that may be considered “seedy” but with the connections that he had, mixed with a state-of-the-art security system, he certainly was able to feel comfortable, at least most days.

If his family had even the slightest inkling that their sweet Marky wasn’t “Dr. Udeshi: Dental Surgeon for Gotham’s Elite”, but actually “Renounced-Licence-Dr. Udeshi: the Best Damn Dental Surgeon for Gotham’s Villain Elite” he was sure that their family dinners would not go nearly as smoothly. The details behind his license revocation were not important, just some experimental surgeries on patients possibly without their knowledge or consent, but no one died. In fact, all of his patients did remarkably well, his ingenious work was only found out when they changed dentists. Honestly, no harm, no foul. He saved teeth headed for extraction, he made implants easier to receive than dentures. His work was flawless, even as a fresh-eyed, bushy-tailed student three years out of med school but alas, he had found himself without a job and without a home.

How he came to be the Rogue Gallery’s favorite dentist was entirely by chance. It was late one night and he was tired after a long day of putting his 8-year education to good use flipping burgers, when he happened to walk past his old office, now run solely by his dental mentor and partner. The time was cruising past 2am and the office light was on. Call it curiosity, desperation, or fate, but Mark shoved his bag of take-home burgers and booked it up the stairs to hopefully come in to a Dr. Bergner overwhelmed with paperwork seeing as he had to take over all of Mark’ patients.

Maybe Dr. Bergner would hire him on as a secretary, lower the paper load on himself, which judging by the gurgle in his stomach, his body and mind were in agreement that would be a fantastic idea. Hurriedly tromping down the hallway Mark noticed that the office door was open and what seemed to be muffled screams were sneaking their way out into the hall. A sane man would have stopped at this point, turned around, and maybe called the Gotham Police.

“Now, Doc! You can’t tell me that I would be getting bubblegum flavor when clearly that tastes nothing at all like it! Didn’t your mother ever teach you that there would be punishments for lying?”

Mark was definitely an insane man because his feet _still_ carried him closer to the doorway. He knew that voice. Everyone in Gotham who owned a TV or had seen the news knew that voice. It was the Joker, not a doubt about it, especially when manic giggles flowed out into the corridor. 

Mark had a death wish.

“Doctor one would think that working with blood all day you would be a tad bit less squeamish. It’s only a finger, suck it up, buttercup.” The Joker sounded genuinely annoyed. “Oh! And it seems we have a visitor, too! Perfect! I’ve always wanted to test out how much these puppies can do!” 

Mark heard a dental drill revving, but he was already turning the corner into the doorway and it was already far too late to do much else than to stand shell-shocked at the sight before him. The sight was bizarre in its normalcy, save for a Dr. Bergner with tape over his mouth and holding his bloody hand to his scrubs, a pool of red perfectly matching the thin trail on the Joker’s jaw. There was the Joker, _the_ Joker, looking calm and relaxed in the dental chair, one leg hanging off of the side to work the foot pedal. attention focused entirely on the drill that he was watching spin with interest. The Joker’s gaze suddenly flew to Mark and his heart stopped cold. Malicious intent and dark glee seemed like it should be impossible to hold to the extent that it was within the Joker’s eyes, but he found a way. A grin, predatory and sharp, began to slowly split his face before the Joker spoke to Mark. 

“Either you are an incredibly unlucky soul or I am a very lucky man, because this hackjob of a doctor left his job half done. You see, dear sweet Bats had the kindness to crack a pearly white on each side of my mouth. Unfortunately twins are more Two-Faces shtick and I don’t intend to have my face splayed across the papers looking for all of the world like a hillbilly. Honestly I don’t know what goes through that Bat’s head sometimes.” He sighed wistfully, eyes rolling off to the side. 

Mark tried gulping past the lead in his throat, realizing that it was amazing how he seemed to talk entirely to both himself and the forced-captive audience that was in the room with him. More like a man putting on a show than a homicidal lunatic who had just bitten off a finger and was no doubt on the run from both the police and aforementioned Batman. 

The Joker seemed to think that his pause had reached its full dramatic effect because his eyes slid slowly to lock eyes with Mark. “So tell me, kiddo, which are you?”

Mark wouldn’t lie and say that the sound that left his throat was anything more dignified than a squawk. He gaped like a fish for a few moments until the Joker’s eyebrows went from up in mock-interest to slowly descending down his face in either boredom or aggravation, Mark did not want to find out. 

“Dentist!” Mark managed, “I’m a dentist --- was a dentist! My license got revoked but I used to work here and I saw the light on so I came back hoping for my job because the whole thing was just a mix up but then I came up here and then --”

“Woah, woah, kid I asked which you were, not your life’s story. This isn’t a first date, cupcake!” The Joker had a smirk back in place with his hands up in a placating gesture, one opened, one with the drill. “All I need is for you to tell me if you can fix up this gorgeous smile and get it camera ready. Hopefully you can do a better job than your dear old dental dad. He used to be so good at his job but it looks like he could use a hand.”

Mark’ eyes flit back and forth from the terror-filled eyes of his old mentor to the gleeful, questioning fire of the Joker’s and not knowing how else to respond, he nodded.

“Perfect!” The Joker announced at the same time as his foot slammed down on the pedal and his hands flew outwards to grab Dr. Bergner and jam the drill into his neck, sliding across the length of his throat for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, his body fell limp, convulsing as his life slowly ended with each beat of his heart. 

Mark had to remind himself to breathe. His chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself. His eyes seeing nothing but the steady stream of blood leaving his mentor’s body. He couldn’t tell if he had to scream, cry, or vomit. So his body chose for him, luckily the trash can was nearby. Unfocused, dazed eyes shifted focus from blood to a blank space on the wall before getting pulled back into reality by someone clearing their throat. 

Mark had nearly forgotten that the Joker was there, merrily getting cozy in the chair, eyes closed, lips upturned in a smile, and blood splattered across his face and bib. He doubted that the Joker would stay patient for long if he didn’t act soon, he was known neither for his patience or satiable bloodlust. With no other choice, Mark took one last look at his mentor and compartmentalized as much as he could for now. It would do his life no favors to stand there, heaving over a trashcan. Resolutely, he wiped his mouth and made his way over to the sink to wash his face and hands before shrugging off his jacket and donning a surgical mask and gloves. By that point he had become detached and focused enough to look at the room layout before him and think _“well at least Dr. B’s body is on the opposite side of the chair”_ as he walked over to the other side of the room and with shaking hands pulled out a package holding a sterile drill. His hands still shook as he sat on the stool, slowly dragging the air compression tube enough to dislodge the murder weapon from where it was attached, clip on the new, sterile drill, and place it back in its holster. 

Clearing his throat of the solid iron that seemed to have taken residence there, Mark looked at his _patient_ “Okay, so I need to take a look at your mouth ah--Mister...Joker. Sir.” 

The Joker shot him an amused grin before opening his mouth, eyes locked onto Mark’ and certainly not helping him to feel at ease. 

“Ah, alright… it seems like Dr -- your last doctor” Mark did not yet feel ready to say his name “finished repairing the crack in your upper left lateral tooth but didn’t start yet on the upper right lateral. This --- this is going to be painful” Mark decided to take his steps very carefully with the Joker “so I would suggest some lidocaine that I would inject to numb---”

Mark was cut off as the Joker’s hand flew out to grab around his collar and drag him to his face. “Listen here, burger boy. If you for a second think that you can come anywhere close to me with a needle, numb me, slow my reflexes, or throw me off my game so that you have the time to run away, you have another thing coming.”

Mark could do nothing more than sputter at the increasingly savage look that the Joker was giving him. “Alright! Okay I can do this without anesthetic!” He quickly amended, nodding and hoping that his answer would satisfy the beast of a man to relax once more into the chair. He could almost hear the muscles unwinding one-by-one as his weight slowly returned to a recline.

If a man could drown in sweat, Mark was pretty sure that he would by the time this night was over. His sympathetic nervous system had told him nothing but _flight, flight flight!_ with every breath while his mind was screaming _fight, fight, fight!_ Because no one got away from the Joker if he didn’t want you to. Wiping the sweat off of his brow he took a steadying breath, leaned over the Joker, and prepared to begin the surgery.

Very quickly Mark realized that it was incredibly difficult to focus on something when someone is glaring searing daggers into you. The start of drilling marked an entirely different challenge. Instead of writhing or screaming, like any sane person, any human being would do, the Joker just _stared._ It wasn’t until the crack in his tooth had been thoroughly drilled out and excavated that Mark reached the pulp close to the root. As soon as the drill made contact, the Joker burst into laughter that chilled Mark to the bone the same time as he quickly retracted his dental instruments from the Joker’s mouth. 

“Careful, Doc! That tickles!” Just as the Joker appeared to be winding down and Mark thought he could resume his work, the Joker perked up again, “Oh, you should see the look on your face! Just like the Bats today! HA!! I bet even if you _did_ manage to run out of here the Bat couldn’t help you today. I’m sure you’re _dying_ to know why, right?” Mark didn’t know how else to respond besides a nod, his curiosity was peaked at what the Joker had done, seeing as it was still too soon for a news story to be out about it, but he honestly would have preferred to resume his work and get this ordeal over with.

The Joker seemed satisfied with that and hummed to himself “Well we’ll just wait and see, kiddo. Maybe if you’re good your Uncle J will give you the exclusive scoop.” He seemed to settle back down at that, opening his mouth again so that Mark could begin putting resin on his tooth to reshape it the best he could.

Mark got lulled into a false sense of security, he was grinding the filling into the proper shape when suddenly the Joker went from rapidly drumming his fingers on the armrest to bursting out in one-sided conversation again. “So Batman finally figured out that the dead robins he kept finding were from dear old me and came crashing into the bird sanctuary where I was holding Bats’ little baby bird. Honestly I don’t understand why anyone would have a sidekick like he does; all liability and weakness if you ask me. Aaanyway, so he comes crashing in and find his me with his little bird. I didn’t hurt the kid, much. Just tousled him a little bit. Killing would’ve been too easy, planting some seeds of doubt about Dear Old Bat Dad though...but I digress” 

Mark sat back in his stool and tried to not let his sigh be audible, he was yet again stuck listening to the Joker without being able to have access to his mouth.

“Hey, uhm. Mr. Joker? Would you mind if I tried something?” The Joker’s eyes instantly snapped to his “I want to put some clasps in your mouth that will hold your lips up enough so that I can work on your tooth and you should still be able to talk. If that’s okay with you. I’m sure you have uh---places to be…” Mark hoped his response would appease the Joker enough for him to agree. 

“Hmm… You know, Doc, I knew there was a reason I picked you! Alright, hook me up, come on, come on!” 

Mark took the briefest of moments to contemplate telling the Joker that what he needed was outside of the room and running. Running from him, from the situation, and running from the dead body on the floor. Common sense thankfully stopped him and guides his feet to the drawer that he remembered the cheek retractors to be in. As he dug through the drawer, flashes of news stories flew through his mind, one of them talking of a man who thought he could outrun the Joker only to be found and his family threatened.

After some time and contemplation, he decided that his best bet would be a child’s cheek retractor that he could tweak a bit to fit around the Joker’s head. After applying the device and fiddling it to the best of its ability, Mark sat back, satisfied.

“Alright Mr. Joker try talking with that in. It is a bit uncomfortable but I won't grind into your lip. If you can, try tucking your bottom lip over your bottom teeth. It'll help you speak better, I think”

The Joker proceeded to test it by singing “bat-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do” and satisfied, sat back down in the chair. 

A breath he didn't know he was holding freed itself from Mark’s body and he relaxed, finally, _finally_ able to finish his work and have this night be over with. His peace was short lived as he settled back into shaping the resin. 

“So the Dork Knight swoops in to save his birdie in distress. We danced our tango, as always. Bats left me with these little parting gifts, how thoughtful, right? Well, my intention this go-round wasn't to kill, just to have a little fun. I slipped out thanks to some gas leaving Batsy to help his bird fly the coop.” By this point Mark was done but he knew the Joker wasn't so he let him continue, feeling the literal role of ‘captive audience’. 

“Thing is, emotional attachment tends to cloud judgement. Especially when that attachment is injured, saaaay, with two fresh broken legs. Bats was in such a rush to get Birdboy out of those restraints that he completely missed the little trick I put in just for him. I simply had to watch, was hiding just to make sure that Bat didn't weasel his way out of it, like he is oft to do. And _WHACK!!_ he fell for it!! Ha! Like father like son!” The Joker cackled hysterically. “Sadly that wiley Bat managed to only get one leg caught in the trap, but that one leg’s broken in about three places. My guesstimate is that those flying nuisances are out of commission for at least 6 weeks. Which means that I” he paused for effect to lock eyes with Mark, his lips settling into a grin “have plenty of time to come up with a fun new scheme for Gotham’s Dear Dork Knight!” Laughter filled the room again, making Mark cringe until it subsided into giggles. 

“Ain't I a stinker, Doc?” The Joker threw a wink in Mark’s direction. “Soooo am I done? I have a _lot_ of planning to do.”

“Uh...well there's only one more thing. That flavored paste from before...” Mark’s eyes skim over to the corpse on the floor. “It's. A tooth polish. It comes in different flavors. Obviously you didn't like the bubblegum but --- everyone loves a minty fresh smile?” Mark tried, forcing a smile and hoping it wouldn't be found as offensive. 

The Joker grinned “you know, Johnny, you're pretty alright. Smart kid. Okay, polish my pearly whites. I want to be able to blind the Bat next time I see him.”

After that everything concluded without incident. When it was done, the Joker looked his teeth over in the mirror and nodded his approval. The Joker didn't try to kill Mark, going to far as to bid him a good day, handing him a heavy wad of $100 bills, and promising to _“stay in touch.”_

Mark stood in the room and slowly shrugged on his coat. Shocked was an understatement for how he was feeling. A mixture of dread, fear, shock, sickly anticipation, and a dash of excitement with pride broiled in his gut. He survived the Joker. Not many could say that. Sure he promised to stay in touch and that held many implications that he wouldn't, couldn't think about right now, but he had enough money to get by for at least a few months, maybe a year if it was as much money as it felt. That only left the elephant in the room. Dr. Bergner’s body was still silently cooling against the wall. 

Mark was at an impasse. Should he call the police? Would he seem like an accomplice? Would they take the money he just received as evidence? He would fear about an interrogation from Batman, but according to the Joker he wouldn't be in commission for a while. He hadn't actually hurt anybody, right? All he did was fix some teeth, surely that didn't make him a criminal, did it? His old boss was dead anyway, and Arkham Asylum was such a rotating door for the Joker that there would never be any real justice in Dr. Bergner’s death. Nothing was going to bring him back, so wasn't it best for Mark to just gather his things and move on?

He was still weighing his options when the Joker’s shock of green hair caught in Mark's peripheral vision, causing Mark to startle and grasp at his chest. The real possibility that the Joker came back to kill him hit Mark full force. 

“By the by, forgot to mention that I'll have my guys come in to clean” he made a vague gesture at the room “all this. Normally I'm not so tidy but couldn't have the coppers arresting my new favorite dentist over some fingerprints.” The Joker sauntered over to Mark, simultaneously patting his cheek with one hand and reaching into his coat’s inner pocket to pull out the now-cold, slightly soggy, bag of burgers. He reached into the bad and unceremoniously unwrapped a burger, throwing the wrapper on the floor and bringing it to his mouth, pausing right before biting. 

“I don't need to wait to eat, right?” He asked, pursing his lips and looking at Mark from the corner of his eye. 

Mark hurriedly shook his head “no Mr. Joker, sir. You can eat whatever you'd like.”

“Perfect!” The Joker shoved the burger in his mouth and around bites said “I was worried there for a second that I’d have to kill you!! Haha!!” At the look on Mark's face the Joker began cackling, continuing to laugh as he sauntered out of the room, the laughter carrying through the entire hallway before slowly fading to silence. 

If Mark had wet his pants that night like a toddler, no one had to know.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Joker makes a proposition to his soon-to-be dentist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to write this from here on out in more of a one-shot format to highlight on the Misadventures of the Joker's Dentist, I just wanted to establish some background of how Mark ended up doing this in the first place. Next chapter will be the Joker's Grill fiasco! (And of course I have to include Harley in future chapters for my own sanity)

True to his word, the Batman was all but nonexistent from the media for the next few weeks. This did not stop Mark from constantly looking over his shoulder and peering down every alleyway he passed. 

 

Scared was an understatement for what he was.  

 

The closest he could come to describe it would be “anxious, paranoid, manic mess of a man who feared sudden noises out of a fear of his life”. He was at the very least a witness to the murder of his former boss, an accomplice to the Joker if he was unlucky. Every day he feared being taken into custody by the police and every night he feared the Batman would turn up in his small apartment, leaving him a battered, broken mess like the countless criminals unlucky enough to get in his path.  

 

Mark didn't have much trust in the Joker’s promise to “clean the mess” from that fateful night, but again, seemingly true to his word, not a peep was heard about the murder of Dr. Berger. How a man could go about making someone seem to simply disappear when he had a wife and two children he didn't know; didn't  want to know. 

Besides the paranoia, there was the issue of the large amount of money that had come into his possession. Nothing quite said “I'm a criminal now!” when you lived in Gotham like depositing a large sum of money into the bank out of the blue, so he kept it stashed throughout the apartment like his Nana had always told him to do “during wartimes.” At least she would’ve been proud, he thought. 

So here he was, still living in his small apartment that was one step up from homeless but at least able to pay rent in cash without questions asked. Gotham was charming like that. Blood money or no, money was money, regardless of its origin.  

 

All he had to do was get through each day with a constant eye over his shoulder, then get home with shaking hands and sleep with one eye open. If he had more nightmares than dreams and awoke at the slightest sound, that was his burden to bear.

 

~~~~~~

 

Four months later, the Batman was back in action along with his Boy Wonder and Mark felt that he could finally begin to relax. No one had come for him.  The news never reported on the case of Dr. Bergner. Everything seemed like it was going to be okay.  Sure, Mark made a living off of flipping burgers now, as he originally feared, but when one narrowly escaped an encounter with the Joker, they counted their blessings and were simply thankful to be alive.  

 

Of course, as is all things in Gotham, a simple existence does not exist and peace is always rudely interrupted. 

 

The warmth of the summer night’s air blanketed Mark as he walked down the street back to his apartment. Nights like these were rare in Gotham. It was warm, the smog was thin enough that it combined with the street lamps to give everything a soft glow, and the sky was even clear enough to make out a star or two.  Mark made his way into his apartment building with a lazy smile on his face until he reached his door. Suddenly the comfort of the night dropped off of him and he felt a spike of ice cold panic make its way up his spine.  

His door was ajar and on its surface was a post-it note that read ‘What's up, doc?’.  Knowing that there was nowhere to run and that he had made enough noise at the door to already have his presence known, he slowly pushed it open.  

 

Inside everything was covered in darkness and Mark was almost foolish enough to believe that maybe this was a terrible prank. He hoped that this was a robbery. He hoped against hope that all of his possessions were gone, as long as their absence also meant the absence of a certain Gotham Rogue. 

 

Of course in that moment his eyes caught movement. The Joker slowly came into view, turning around in Mark’s one old, ratty barstool to face him with a manic grin plastered across his face. 

Somehow the one sliver of moonlight that made it into the apartment painted itself across the Joker’s visage.  He almost wanted to laugh at how  composed the man looked. He looked terrifyingly goddamn  elegant , like a confident businessman, not a psychopath sitting in a rundown apartment on a stool that strained from any weight more than a shoe, not that you could tell by looking at the Joker balanced atop it. 

 

It was also in that moment, aside the pervasive fear for his life,  that Mark had his beliefs confirmed: the Joker was the biggest  ham  he had ever seen. 

 

At the same time that Mark came to this realization, the Joker decided that he had let the full effect of his presence sink in enough and suddenly moved, jumping up from the chair and extending his arms as though offering a hug to a long-lost friend. “MARKIPOO!” The Joker’s voice filled the apartment.  

With careless ease, the Joker slowly crossed the apartment towards Mark while he drawled, “you know, Marky Boy, we never got fully acquainted our first meeting. It made you quote the  difficult man to find.” As the Joker’s arm draped across Mark’s shoulders, he had no response other than a tentative slight nod of his head. 

“But then was then and now is now, and Mark, I came to you because I looked up your file and I must say, I am  impressed .” Mark repressed a shudder as the Joker’s breath was close enough to heat his face as the Joker led him towards the countertop, which he now noticed had papers sprawled over it. 

“Seems like you're quite the inventor, kiddo.  Brilliant dentist who was able to open his co-owned practice just one year out of med school. Perfect record until your little...incident. Got caught testing out some fun procedures while your patients were knocked out, eh? I take it they didn't wake up too kindly to realizing you've played around in their mouths.” Mark shook his head and the Joker released his shoulder to cross the counter to peer at him over the papers. 

“So, tell me, Doc, any of those procedures work?” He asked with one eyebrow quirked, inquisitively leaning over the counter. 

“Uh-um-ah” Mark paused to recover his ability to speak before proceeding to vomit an explanation from his lips in a terrified rush, “I was never able to fully complete my work because the appointments were never long enough - but I did get the foundations for some groundbreaking work started, if only they let me finish. One patient, I remember her well, would have been the first human to successfully have a cell phone implanted in her jaw - complete with jaw-wired accelerometer and all -  if she had only given me a little more time but-ah” Mark could see that he Joker’s attention span was almost at its limit “uh-yeah but then my license...got...revoked” Mark’s hands were fidgeting together, at a loss for what to do besides being coated in enough sweat that he felt like he just washed them. 

 

“You know, Marky, I love teeth. I've built chattering teeth bombs, plastered hundreds of smiles on faces, and even have built a two-story tall mouth for this one scheme” his eyes lit with mirth as he motioned his hands towards the ceiling  “- but I digress.  Mark, I see the potential for greatness in you.  I believe you can help me” he gestured towards himself, “help you” he held his finger in Mark’s direction while locking eyes. 

 

After a pause, “Cyanide implants,” the Joker suddenly declared. 

 

This confused Mark enough to bring him up short. “Huh?”

 

“Cyanide implants. You know of them, correct?” The Joker drummed his fingers on the counter, seemingly impatient and aggravated that Mark couldn't keep up with whatever sick tangents that the Joker’s mind had. At Mark's nod, he continued. 

“Could you make them?” Another nod. 

The Joker clapped his hands together, “Perfect! Here I was thinking this may have all been a waste of my time, which would not have bode well for either of us.  Well Doc, here's what I want to do. Bats has gotten used to my laughing gas bombs, he always has time to drop down that darn gas mask or hold his breath and he's gotten too used to my lapel flower for that method to be any fun anymore. So I want you to make me - drumroll, please.” The Joker gestured at Mark, eyebrow slowly inching towards his hairline in conjunction with his smile lowering.  

 

It took a couple of beats, for the Joker to be near a snarl, when Mark finally regained his wits enough to hurriedly drum his fingers on the countertop as quickly as his shaking arms would allow. 

 

Seemingly satisfied, his grin returned as the Joker stood straight, looking proud as can be as he adjusted his lapels with a sharp tug. 

His attention turned to Mark, his unwilling hype man, as he arched one hand through the air while announcing, 

 

“Laughing Gas Implants!”  

 

At the same time as the Joker made his proud declaration, the light above him in the apartment was flicked on by a henchman cloaked in darkness who Mark had not even noticed until now. 

 

“-whuh?” Mark dumbfoundedly began, hands lamely hovering over the table and repressing a shiver. He didn’t have much time to question or contemplate this as the Joker barrelled into speech again, this time accompanied by a pantomime of what seemed to be a fight against Batman.

 

“Imagine, me, the dastardly, dashing Clown Prince of Crime toe-to-toe with the grim, stalwart Dork Knight.  Now, my dear Bats has such a hard time getting the joke but boy can he deliver a punchline!” The Joker emphasized this by seeming to be punched by an invisible hand, which lead to a pratfall onto the ground, maneuvering himself during the fall in such a way to end in the center of the henchman-provided spotlight. “So I’m down, yet another plan seemingly foiled… BUT WAIT! Just as Bats leans down to grab me and take me back to my funhouse away from home,” he makes an emphasized clicking together of his teeth, followed by a “pshhh” sound effect and his hands spreading out in front of him, “just like that Bats has a completely unexpected face full of my patented happy gas! That’ll surely get a laugh out of him! Ha!!” The Joker finished his explanation by springboarding himself off of the floor and walking back to Mark.

 

“So, Doc, what do ya say?” Again, Mark’s personal bubble was crushed as the Joker laid an arm over his shoulder. He was about to blindly agree with a nod or a ‘yes’ before his heart got stuck in his throat as the Joker reached into his jacket with a lazy smile on his face.  Taking a step away from Mark, the Joker, still fishing in his coat, cleared his throat into his fist as he settled on one knee on the floor.  

 

Mark didn’t know whether to feel relieved, baffled, or terrified as the Joker adopted an expression that seemed like he would burst into tears at any moment, startling green and purple flecked eyes bore into his as he finally retrieved what he had been rifling through his jacket for: a small ring box.

 

“Doc, would you make me the happiest clown in all of Gotham and -” he flipped the box open to reveal a vial “make a Laughing Gas Implant for me?” 

 

Mark was beyond speechless and his body was in enough disbelief about still being alive that he only managed a meek nod.

 

In a flurry of motion, the Joker’s face split into a grin as he stood, shoved the box in Mark’s hand, called over the henchman who deposited a large bag of what he could only assume to be money on the counter, and strode towards the door. 

 

“Alright, Mark, my boy! You be careful with that vial, you hear? It's highly concentrated and  very  unstable so only a couple of drops should do.  Oh don't look so scared! A (short) lifetime of laughter isn't so bad!  Hope you aren't a butterfingers, oof.  Whip up a few so I can try them out, I'll only have the best for Bats. And take your time. But don't keep me waiting!”

 

The Joker paused at the doorframe in something that Mark was beginning to note as a habit to get the definitive last word, “I'll keep in touch,” he said with a smirk and a wink. “Oh and Doc, please get yourself somewhere more, eh, professional. What kind of dentist would you be without a waiting room filled with outdated magazines for me to read? Toodles!”

 

Just like that the Joker and his men filed out of the apartment leaving Mark to finally obey his shaking knees and drop to the floor. He cradled the box carefully and set it on the floor in front of him before curling into the fetal position.

 

The wisest course of action would be to bring that vial to the police. He could even tie a bow on it and leave it somewhere for Batman.  

 

But, he was too deep in it now. The Joker could and would track him down wherever he hid to kill him if he went to the police. 

 

Plus, he couldn't deny the two large sums of money that he already received from the psychopath. Without that, where would he be? At best barely scraping by flipping burgers and probably sleeping on the street with his revoked license. 

  
Mark sighed as he made his damning decision and fell asleep on the floor, eyes slowly losing focus to the vial of green glistening in the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't really edit this, at all, so sorry for any errors! My original version (typed on Google Docs) had italics but it didn't paste over so maybe I'll get around to fixing that. Tomorrow. It's late lol.  
> I've realized as a lover of fanfic myself that kudos and comments mean so much so please, if you don't comment on this, go comment on a fave author of yours' work!! Thanks~!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments would be super incredibly appreciated!! I zoomed through this story so if there's any errors, please call me out! Thanks, guys!!


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